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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23322148">Through the Door (A Conversation)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/NearFar/pseuds/NearFar'>NearFar</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls III: Morrowind</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>ALMSIVI, Angst, Dunmeri Ancestral Practices, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Invoking, Post-Morrowind, Post-Red Year, Short, Summoning, Whispering Door</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 16:02:53</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>761</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23322148</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/NearFar/pseuds/NearFar</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Many years after the fall of the Tribunal, a Dunmeri scholar seeks answers to questions long buried.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Through the Door (A Conversation)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Who were you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The quill set to paper.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We were those you called ALMSIVI, Living Gods, created of flesh but imbued with that beyond comprehension.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A voice crackled from beyond a Whispering Door, smeared with ash and painted dark. Small but picturesque, glowing fungi sprung up around the construct, charred wood barely a foot tall.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Almalexia, Sotha Sil and Vivec.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A scratch of ink sunk into the sheets below.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Correct, child.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The voice was monotone, lacking the distinction of before. Mechanical, working; it was not of emotion. A gold shimmer appeared.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What happened to you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A faint light glowed from beyond the Door, as if embers had found oxygen. Roaring with fire, a third joined the newfound fray.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The incarnate of the one most betrayed. The first councillor, a husband, born again by Dusk and Dawn.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sentences flowed along the page.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Where are you now?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Visions of stars, webs and lies filled the mind before the Three. With a nod, the images cleared.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“In the Beyond. The space of few, where gods go to die.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The tone was lost, full of longing, but also full of understanding. Fingertips ghosted along a single spine, but no corporeal being was to be found.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Such is the way of Lorkhan, is it not?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A picture dotted blank space.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Indeed, young one. The power itself never truly fades, only our bodies from a lack of access.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The cheeks of the one corporeal warmed through non-autonomous means, breath a mere stream of vapour into a room once cold. The skin did not feel it any longer.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you suggesting the Heart never truly died?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A momentary withdrawal of heat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shattered, like glass. Fractured, like a gem. Will we ever glue it together? No.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The heat returned, as scalding as the statement heard. A hiss escaped hardened lips, mere seconds before normality was restored, but the point was made.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Have I offended you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The quill paused, suspended.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Far from it. Sometimes the answers we seek do not come easily, as time has told even us who were thought immortal.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The light beyond the Door dimmed, weary and weathered, but it did not extinguish. Sounds of birds chirped nearby, but not in the immediate vicinity.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You are still here to answer questions - does that not make you immortal?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gentle laughter echoed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Immortality is relevant to one’s corporeal state, blessed learner. We are but the equivalent of ghosts, as our work lives on but we are not in the present.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Breezes, gentle and heated, dusted skin like ash. The ferocity of the storm had long since passed, settling like sand on a sunbaked dune.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are the Reclamations true?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lightened, the ink below did not smear with increased pace.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We were gods. The fact of our divinity does not change with how we acquired it. Boethiah, Azura and Mephala do not exist in the Beyond as we do now.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Slowly, the charred wood of the Door began to creak and groan. The voices grew distant, slipping away as Whispers do in the dead of night. There was not much longer.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What of those Unmourned?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A splash of red dotted the parchment below and low murmurs grew.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They belong here as we do. Divine in disease, but as mistaken in honour as we were.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Door trembled and the murmurs subsided, quietened by acknowledgement. Legitimate in existence, but far from harm, the presence of a third eye felt scratched into a physical forehead.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do some still pray to you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The ink flashed gold.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mistakenly so, listener. We are mere ghosts of the past; aforementioned.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The fungi before the Door shrivelled, mere husks of what they were before. No longer blooming, their skins turned sickly and they dangled limply between strong fingertips. Aware of the closure, a crimson gaze fell upon ashen beams once more, momentarily silent.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And Nerevar?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A tear dripped onto the new leaf.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He will live until night stops bleeding into day. He is Moon-and-Star, and achieved what we could not.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As the Door crumbled with a last lick of flame, the pain of thousands washed over the Dunmer knelt before it. Visions of lava and a fiery asteroid blended into immense tidal waves, crashing and swallowing swathes of coastal lands. Screams and cries deafened his ears, tears falling freely now onto the parchment below, whilst grey skin cracked and burnt in his mind. The stench was unbearable and a dry sob let loose from his lips, but the ink, however, did not smear. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For hours, the Dunmer cried, until the ground beneath him was sodden with newfound sorrow.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Decided to try a short format with a rigid structure, so this was born. Not much plot to this one - just wanted to contribute something to the fandom and experiment.<br/>Feel free to leave a comment below and kudos if you enjoyed this short piece. Thank you for reading.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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